


Unwavering

by MagicAndSparklez



Category: The Dark Artifices Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: I'm Bad At Tagging, Kierarktina, Multi, vibing at the cabin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:01:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26412316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicAndSparklez/pseuds/MagicAndSparklez
Summary: Cristina's taken to a new hobby, drabbly fluff of a sweet time at the cottage, no plot, just wholesome times with my fave triad.
Relationships: Mark Blackthorn/Kieran/Cristina Rosales
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31





	Unwavering

Kieran had arrived at the cottage in the early evening, finally catching a break in his royal duties. His loves—Mark and Cristina—had been staying there for the next few days, catching him when he was able to spare time outside of the palace.

Tonight, was their first night together in nearly three weeks. When he made it to the cottage, he was greeted with the sweet scent of cinnamon and baked apple. Cristina’s new favourite hobby had been baking, and she was damned good at it. Even mundane foods had Kieran craving more, flavours he had never tried before catching him off guard, but still enticing him further.

“Hey!” Mark called out, coming out of the side room that acted as an office. “Tina, Kier’s here!” he called back to the kitchen.

Kieran smiled as Mark walked towards him, embracing his boyfriend tightly, planting a soft kiss on his lips. “I’ve missed you, my love.” Kieran’s hair lightened a few shades, turning to a light teal-y blue.

Cristina walked across into the room, a light smile gracing her features. She joined the men in their embrace, finding herself leaning to the side to sneak a kiss on Kieran’s cheek, “welcome home, amor” she said, her smile widening.

“My Lady of Roses,” he returned the kiss to her temple, “I’ve missed you as well,” he said, leaning his head on Mark’s shoulder.

The trio stayed in the entryway for a few minutes, simply enjoying being in the presence of one another. It was Cristina who broke the silence. “I can’t wait for you to try the crumble I’ve made,” she said, tilting her forehead to bump against Kieran’s.

“Crumble?” Kieran inquired, unfamiliar with the mundane treat. He disentangled himself from their embrace, the triad walking together to the living area of the small house.

“It’s good, trust us,” Mark supplied, having memories of assisting Eleanor in baking one in his childhood. The memory of his adoptive mother causing him to smile. “We used to make apple crumble all the time, it was Dru’s favourite.”

“If young Drusilla can claim it to be a favourite, I suppose I can try it without much fear,” Kieran determined, trusting Dru’s judgement.

“Mark found the recipe. I was dubious at first, but I checked into it and it seemed fine,” Cristina claimed, usually concerned with Mark’s food choices.  
It wasn’t that Mark was a bad cook—well, he was, but that wasn’t Cristina’s point—it’s more that he found odd combinations of foods to be genuinely good. She had once compared Mark’s diet to that of a craving pregnant woman—this had caused Mark to become defensive over his bowl of gummy-bears and cantaloupe in milk.

Kieran nodded, willing to try once it would be ready. The two men finding a place on the couch while Cristina returned to the kitchen to monitor the apple crumble. Kieran laid back, his body lounging out on the couch, head resting in Mark’s lap.

Mark was idly playing with Kieran’s hair, stroking his fingers through the soft blue locks, enjoying the comfortably habit he picked up in The Hunt. Kieran and being near Kieran had been Mark’s comfort on the harshest nights in The Hunt, the other boy—man, now—being his only source of safety and grounding.

The pair sat in comfortable silence, the only noise Cristina moving about the kitchen and the sound of the oven door occasionally creaking open floating through the house. She was like the cherry on top for Kieran and Mark. Sometimes the two former hunters would fall back into their old ways, falling into trauma, fear, and arguments. Cristina was a buffer to drag them out, she was a light to brighten the darkness that shrouded them.

But Mark and Cristina or Kieran and Cristina weren’t a perfect pair either. They always needed their third to bring them together into a peaceful and happy relationship. Mark and Cristina would fall into Shadowhunter mode too intensely, getting caught up in work too much, not saving times to take for themselves, not taking time to work out personal disputes but ignoring each other for periods of time. Kieran brought them out of their petty squabbles, making them realise the way they were reacting was irrational and childish.

Cristina and Kieran both found each other too shy around each other to get anywhere, Mark always bringing them together, bridging Shadowhunter and Faerie tradition with ease. She was too nervous about being with a king and he with a princess. They both had a tendency to shy away from each other when they were without Mark for more than a few weeks. He tied them together as Cristina did he and Kieran, as Kieran did he and Cristina.

It was nice in their way. The way the three of them got along, but yet two of them could turn to dust if things persisted the wrong way for too long. They were all three built for love and loving each other, they were a perfect trio, each bringing balance to the others in their own way. Cristina and her positivity and radiance, Kieran and his diplomacy and steadfastness, Mark and his bubbliness and knowledge of their cultures.

Like she did, Cristina brought the boys out of themselves as she wandered in, balancing three small bowls with spoons sticking out of them in her hands and on her arm. She wordlessly distributed the apple crumble with a dollop of whipped cream on top to the two men awaiting her.  
Kieran sat up, making room for Cristina to sit between him and Mark. The three sat together comfortably on their sofa that had been designed more for two people, but still comfortably seated them three.

Cristina watched apprehensively as Kieran brought a spoonful of the treat to his mouth. He nodded, swallowing, and giving Cristina a thumbs up—a very mundane gesture for the Unseelie King to be displaying. She let out a satisfied noise as she too took a mouthful of the dessert, proud of herself for introducing Kieran to another new mundane food.

“It reminds me of a pie, sweeter and softer,” Kieran remarked between bites.

“It basically is a deconstructed pie, now that I think of it,” Cristina added, shrugging her shoulders. “What do you think, Mark?”

Mark, who had been silent throughout the whole conversation smiled, “it reminds me of home before the pair of you,” he said, “but now it reminds me of home here too.”

The simple words caused his partners to feel a warmth bubble up within them, both feeling proud to be Mark’s home and heart. The three ate in blissful quiet, the only sounds that of spoons scraping against bowls. As they finished, Mark stood, collecting bowls, and stacking them together before briefly disappearing into the kitchen to deposit them in the sink to be washed later.

He returned to see Cristina and Kieran snuggled up together, Kieran’s arms around Cristina’s shoulders. It was an image Mark wouldn’t trade for the world—they were his world, no one could ever replace them. They were his and he was theirs; there was no contesting it.

Everything was serene as he joined his loves on the couch, sitting on Kieran’s other side and leaning his head on his shoulder. The trio could sit in silence without any words between them for hours, but it wasn’t long before Kieran suggested going for a short walk.

Outside the cottage was a dense forested area, and across from it, a small beach. As one, they stood up, making their way back to the front doorway to head on their short adventure. They filed out the door, Cristina retrieving a key attached to a chain around her neck to lock it.

Reaching out for Cristina and Kieran’s hands, Mark recalled his earlier nights in Faerieland; he recalled how he would name the stars after his siblings, how now he added Kieran and Cristina to the stars as they were family now. He recited his list, pointing to each star as he whispered the names of his brothers and sisters, squeezing Cristina’s hand as he named a star after her, and doing the same with Kieran. As a trio, they waltzed out into the night, feeling the crisp and fresh air of the forest encapsulate them.

The world moved slow around them as they walked, Mark occasionally going to stand before the other pair and walking backwards as to face them as he did. He was exceptionally talented at dodging branches and shrubs and anything in his path. He spoke animatedly about his plans for the three of them, how if they couldn’t get married in Faerie law, they could always host and hold their own mock wedding for the three of them in private, exchanging promises and love in their own way.

Kieran was the one to interrupt Mark’s wedding plans, a hesitant smile on his lips. “Wedding or not, you two are everything I need. I would give my crown to be with you but that is not what I am meant to do. I would bend the sky and earth to change the laws of the land, but neither is that my purpose. My purpose is to rule and to love with ferocity.” He paused, observing his partners’ expressions before continuing. “My love for you is as sure as the sun is to rise from the east, as strong as a blade forged in the most tempered flame, and as long as the expanses of the skies.”

Mark and Cristina stood, stunned by Kieran’s words. Cristina felt her eyes sting from early signs of tears, as did Mark.

“If only I could speak so eloquent, Kieran, I would love as strong as you,” Cristina returned, squeezing Kieran’s hand

Mark nodded in agreement. “You have robbed me or all whim and word, dearest,” Mark added.

Kieran blushed, his hair darkening a shade as his cheeks went rosy. “This was not my intention,” he grabbed Mark’s hand with his free one, “but my loves, there is not a day that goes by wherein my love for you does not grow.”

“I love you,” Cristina said, her voice hardly above a whisper, intimate and soft.

“And I you, my sweet Cristina,” her name was soft on his lips as he returned the sentiment.

“I love you,” Mark grabbed Cristina’s free hand, giving both hers and Kieran’s a gentle squeeze, “and you.”

“I love you too,” both Kieran and Cristina returned in unison.

The three stood in the forest, the only witnesses the piskies and hobs as they came together into an embrace. Moments of impromptu love came to the triad as water did to a creek—unintentional, unsure, and unwaveringly. As though the moment had been nothing more than a mere confession of secrets, the trio continued their walk, occasional words exchanged back and forth, as the night took them in her arms.


End file.
